


Soldiers with Halos

by momopichu



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Just Get Married Already, M/M, Mentions of Spiders, Mentions of other overwatch cast, Protective Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Thinks-he's-invincible Jack, Two dudes being bros, nsfw in chapter 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:20:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21902893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momopichu/pseuds/momopichu
Summary: Five times Jack protected Gabe and the one time Gabe protected him.From SEP to the end.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 13
Kudos: 106
Collections: Reaper76 Free For All Secret Santa 2019





	1. i

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GrimLove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimLove/gifts).



> Woweee so biiig prompt equals biiig piece.  
> I hope you like it GrimLove! Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Jack’s first mission success with the SEP is spent in the blazing heat. He’s sweating through the ratty sheets and itchy bandages wrapped thickly around his middle. The little buzzing fan in the corner of the hospital ward is being less than helpful and he’s pretty sure the humidity could kill. But moving is quite out of the option as the blond tries his best to focus on breathing through his nose and not jump every time that _thing_ creeps across his skin.

Whoever thought living in Australia was a good idea needs to have their head checked.

The _spider_ has long, thin legs and a body and head quite literally the size of Jack’s fist, but punching the thing would probably do more damage than good. He’s not keen on finding out whether this species – which judging from the colour on its back is poisonous – can fly or do an approximation of fly. So Jack smothers his breath in his already burning lungs and tries not to flinch with every slinking step the eight-legged menace takes up his naked chest.

“I ought to leave it there and let you suffer.”

Jack peeks one eye open from his heavily scrunched up face. Gabriel is lounging against the ward’s doorframe in a light shirt and sweats. Gone is the soot and blood from the battlefield, the man looks like he’s freshly showered and looking for trouble. His dark brows are set in a frown, lips creased in that pouting-but-not-a-pout way that says he’s displeased, but not angry – yet.

“Pretty please?” Jack breathes. He definitely can’t move right now; the spider has finished scaling his pec and is slowly creeping up his shoulder to his neck. His mind spirals between wanting to shrink and protect that vulnerable part of him and moving his head as far away from it as possible.

“And where was _my_ pretty please?” Gabriel snaps. “Oh yeah. You _ignored_ it! Seconds right before you got lasered in the gut!”

“In my defence, you didn’t say ‘pretty’ please,” Jack says quickly.

“We’re really going to argue about semantics.” Gabe phrases it like a not-question. He folds his arms, biceps bulging with the movement. His hand flutters a moment in Jack’s direction. “That thing’s going for your nose y’know.”

Jack can feel it. Even though he really wishes he doesn’t. It tickles something bad and frightens him something good. The hair on his neck is standing on end, goosebumps all the way up both his arms and everywhere else. His wound hurts from the tension in his muscles, the cold shiver that passes with every step of the spider’s hairy leg.

“ _Please_ Gabe—” Jack cuts himself off, barely suppressing a shout of fright as something touches his lips. He’s hyperventilating now, he has to be. Please don’t bite him please don’t bite him please don’t—

Something slides between his mouth and the spider. Jack chances one eye open to see Gabriel with an arm outstretched, his hand acting as the barrier.

“Breath _cariño_.”

“Are you flirting with me _now?_ ” Jack can’t keep the affronted shock out of his voice. He also can’t keep his eyes open because Gabriel had only lifted the spider’s back end off his mouth, but the rest of the spider was still very much on Jack’s face.

“I don’t flirt with suicido idiots.” Gabriel hums.

“You were about to get shot.” Jack hisses.

“Soldiers get shot all the time.”

“What if I don’t _want_ you to get shot?”

“And what if I don’t want you to get _hurt_?”

There it was.

If Jack didn’t have a spider on his face, he would be glaring. He would also be trying to manhandle Gabe onto his back to kiss the fucker stupid. Sadly, both were not an option and he was stuck trying to stop scrunching his face up as the spider decided that Jack’s well-defined features was the most comfortable chair it could possibly find in the whole room. But hold on…

“If I didn’t have this spider on my face, I’d eat you out right now.” Jack gasps.

“That’s it? That’s your card? You’re going to play _sex_ when I could’ve lost you to an omnic horde?” Gabriel sounds angry – furious even. Jack can feel his hand shake against his lips, those callused finger trembling with a barely held back storm.

“Well…”

“You’re in no place to make demands, Jackie.”

Jack can only shrug. At least he tried. Because the only thing worse than a potentially-poisonous-spider on his face was losing Gabriel. He’d take this panic attack over having to see his boyfriend-not-boyfriend unmoving in the dirt, bronze eyes glassy blank, covered in dust and ash to be forgotten, blood crusted down his nose, soft lips hard from cold and death—

“Jack, come back to me.”

Jack gasps, flexing his hands from where they had shuttered into a tight fist. The air in his lung hissing through cold teeth and shaking shoulders.

“Gabe, please, just—”

“Like I said. No place to make demands, Jackie.” He could feel Gabe moving closer, when he next spoke, his breath ghosted across Jack’s ear. “Promise me you won’t pull another stunt like that.”

“Gabe—”

“ _Promise me_.”

And chance Gabe’s death? Despite the very real threat of a spider on his face, Jack peeked one blue eye open to glare at Gabriel.

“You know I can’t do that.”

The snarl that erupts from Gabriel could’ve shaken the whole room. It _did_ shake Jack. And he expected Gabe to leave him then, leave him to panic while a spider crawled all over his bed-ridden body, but instead the spider was lifted off in one smooth motion.

Jack chokes on the fresh air free of spider, coughing and ribs _aching_ from the suddenly absent pressure. Both eyes fly open, careening across the room until they find Gabriel sliding the spider out the window and shutting the open thing with a finality that dented the pane.

And then Gabriel was on him, sucking his hard-earned breath right back out through his lips. Jack could only hang on for the ride, hands pinned against the bed, Gabriel’s grip a brand as they held him down against thin sheets.

“I’m not losing you to this fucking war Jack.” It was pressed against his lips, the hint of a promise weaved into their intertwined breath.

“As if I’d let you get rid of me so easily,” Jack chuckles.


	2. ii

It’s a few years later when they wound up stuck in the rain. Jack remembers this mission not because of the weather…but mostly because of the weather. It’s been years since he’s been trapped in a thunderstorm this bad. Lightning snakes across the sky in jagged blinding lines and dark clouds pour their endless load of water down around them. They’re soaked to their skins, cold to their bones and Jack’s pretty sure Gabe’s got a dent in his skull from the frown he’s wearing.

“Why can’t I call you my boyfriend?” Jack asks. He asks partially because he wants to distract the other man from his anger. And also, partially because he genuinely wants to know. Gabe doesn’t even quirk a brow at him, brown eyes locked onto the eye of the needle he had dwarfed between gloved fingers.

“Keep the pressure on.” Is all he says.

Jack rolls his blue eyes in reply but keeps his hands tight over the large gash in his leg. It doesn’t hurt anymore; which should be saying something. Or nothing. Because it seems the quiet were all they were going to get. Frustrated with only the pitter patter of rain for noise, Jack speaks up.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks.

“No.” Gabe’s reply was so quick Jack nearly got whiplash. Blue eyes narrowed.

“Gab—”

“ _No!_ ” Gabe snaps. The man raises his head from the needle and points one accusing finger in Jack’s direction. “You are going to _sit_ still, shut up and put pressure on that wound or on my mother’s name I will throttle you – do you hear me Jack!?”

Without even waiting for a reply, Gabe went back to his needle, this time brows creased in a mixture of anger _and_ focus. Jack sighs and leans back against the creaky mattress. They were in a bombed-out house, the only shelter this side of a state burned up by the Omnic Crisis. They had missed their last window of escape before the storm set in and were now trapped with no backup, limited communications and three days’ worth of supplies.

The only good thing to come of this was that the storm that had trapped them had also pushed the Omnic lines back. A mixture of unstable ground caused by rain and a threat of the ever-present lightning storm that coursed through the sky. So they were safe, for now.

“Finally!”

Jack turns just in time to watch Gabe lift the needle in triumph. Through the eye of the needle was a finally set thread and the other man brings it close but stops short, hovering over the large wound in Jack’s leg.

“Fuck, how do I…?”

Jack can’t help the muffled giggle that escapes “Give it here Gabe—”

“No! You just sit tight and let me…Just guide me here, Jack.”

The blond sighs. “You just,” he does a loop with his hand, and a twist “Knot the first stitch and keep sewing me shut.”

Gabe blinks for a moment, then looks down at the bloody gaping wound on Jack’s leg. Jack has a half a mind to take the needle from him when the other man finally heaves a huge breath and leans in. Jack’s nerves are all but shot at this point but he does think he feels the tug as Gabe pulls the thread taut on the first stitch.

“This is probably unsanitary. This is definitely unsanitary.” Gabe mutters to himself as he works. Each tug is followed by a glance in Jack’s direction, as if checking him for signs of discomfort.

“Gabe, the SEP pumped us full of chemicals. I’m more likely to die from loss of blood right now than sepsis.” Jack points out.

“Still. If anything happened to you…” For a moment Gabe brushes his thumb over the sutured wound. “This is probably going to scar.”

“Then I’ll remember it as the time you sewed me shut.” Jack smiles.

“I wouldn’t have to sew you shut if you’d just stop playing the hero and getting yourself blown up!” Gabe retorts. Even though his words were harsh, his hands were gentle around the wound. With a little hesitance, he ties the last stitch closed and bandages the uneven threads. Gabe isn’t a medic, and it shows – but asking Jack to forgive him for the scar would be the least of his worries.

“I don’t regret it.” Jack says.

And why doesn’t that surprise Gabriel.

“ _Damn it Jack_. All I’m asking is for you to look out for yourself!”

Jack has the gall to shrug and Gabe has to resist upping on the promise of throttling the blond. He’s cold, tired, and he’s scared sick. Scared of watching his best friend and sunshine dive into enemy lines again and again. He’s sick of seeing Jack smile while covered in the dirt of war and nursing bloody wounds. But most of all Gabriel was sick of Jack throwing himself in the line of fire to ‘protect’ him.

Gabriel wasn’t some damsel in distress. He didn’t need protecting. And that’s why Jack did it, because Gabe sometimes forgot he was very much mortal. Because even though the SEP pumped them full of miracle drugs and he was the most successful commander in action right now, he was still human and all it would take was for one lucky bullet or shrapnel to take Gabe out of the fight for good.

But Jack – stupid, beautiful Jack – was there to watch his back, always seemingly at the cost of his own life.

Gabriel stands then, feeling the room too small, too crowded for the both of them. He walks to the hallway and out, Jack’s call of ‘where are you going’ echoing after him. He scavenges for supplies among cobwebbed cupboards and creaky dressers. There’re a few old cans of food, some mouldy lithium batteries, half buried under a couch he finds a copy of Terminator.

Gabriel snorts at the badly CGI’ed cover and tosses it back onto the cushions.

He does a round of the rooms, an excuse for something to do, and finds clean sheets and towels still tucked in the drawers. He sighs when he sees the Winnie the Pooh print, wraps them in his arms and brings everything back to where Jack waits.

The blond had activated one of their portable heaters. No light, just warmth. Or, as much warmth as it could provide in this weather. He was shivering against the cold, arms wrapped tight around his body and the gash on his leg still shiny from water and blood.

“Strip,” Gabriel orders.

“Right now? You must be joking.” Jack retorts.

In lieu of an answer, Gabe presents his bounty. Still, it takes a moment of hesitation before Jack shifts, mindful of his injured leg.

“Help me?” the blond asks.

Gabe is all too keen to help. He hands are gentle, sliding down Jack’s arms to help him shed his coat. Jack’s shirt follows soon after, the material translucent from rain water and clinging tight to the lines of his body. Next are his pants; these prove a little more difficult with all the buckles, pockets and the large hole where Jack’s wound was, but they manage. Everything is laid out along the wall to dry out and Gabe adds his own gear to the array soon after.

Once he’s naked and patted dry with a towel, he turns to find Jack huddled in a corner, one set of sheets wrapped tight around still-trembling shoulders. Gabriel steps forward and flicks his fingers in a motion for some space.

“Move over,” he says.

“I thought you didn’t want to cuddle,” Jack replies. Still, the blond moves over and beckons with his sheet for Gabe to join him.

Gabriel does so, sidling up beside Jack with a second and third set of sheets. He wraps the second over Jack’s shoulders tightly, adding to the single layer he had over pale skin and bundles the third over his own. Together, they huddle for warmth as the rain continues to pour outside.

The minutes pass in silence, filled only by the thundering of distant lightning and schwa-schwa of rain. Gabe counts ten before Jack’s head slowly droops to his shoulder, almost cautiously at first. He must realise that Gabe wasn’t going to pull away and soon rests easier, sinking into the other man’s shoulder. Gabriel sighs then and frees his arm to pull Jack tight to his side, skin against skin and sharing body heat. The sheets are rearranged, and he feels Jack sigh in contentment. Gabriel can’t help the small huff of a chuckle that escapes and presses his lips to Jack’s wet hair.

He could’ve lost this today, he thinks.

“You asked me why I didn’t want you to call me your boyfriend,” Gabe begins.

“Mm.” Jack hums. He sounded sleepy, but the flutter of his eyelashes against Gabe’s neck marks him as wide awake.

“Boyfriend doesn’t quite cover what I want to do for you,” Gabe sighs.

Jack lifts his head, not quite enough to look into Gabriel’s eyes, but just enough to share his breath. “No?” He asks.

“I mean, I still want to take you on a date.” Gabe says. “Movie, candlelight dinner, the works… But we’re at war, Jack. I just want…I want more for you.”

“I have everything I want right here, Gabe.” The idiot was smiling, pressing soft kisses along Gabe’s chin and jaw.

“Yeah well, I want to have a house. With a proper kitchen – none of that half-assed barracks crap.” Gabe continues. “I want to see you in it in that stupid apron we found in Santa Monica, making milkshakes and baking cookies – with me right beside you. I want dinner on Saturday with the fam. Costume parties, drives down by the beach, stupid shit like that – together.”

“Awfully domestic of you,” Jack smiles. “It sounds like you’re trying to propose.”

“I’ll get there, eventually.”

“Mm.”

Silence.

“I just want the fighting to be over, Jack.” Gabe admits. It’s been five years since the war started, three years since they joined SEP together and tried for a relationship that shouldn’t have happened against all odds. “I want it all to stop so we can just… _be_.”

But for the fighting to be over, they needed to save the world. And even though they had their little successes here and there, there was still so much more to do. The needs of the world outweighed their own. Gabriel knew this deep down, but he had to confess and he knew Jack would understand.

And Jack did. He understood they signed themselves away the moment this war started. That if there was ever a chance at a life for themselves, it would be after everyone else had _their_ chance. There was no room to be selfish in their line of work, but for now, maybe they could pretend.

So Jack pressed himself back against Gabe’s body. He wraps his arms around his boyfriend-not-boyfriend and pulls them down until they were lying side by side on the narrow mattress. He tangled their legs, tucks Gabe’s head against his shoulder and holds him close.

Gabe’s arms loop around his waist in response, keeping them flush. His shoulders tremble, and not from the cold. Jack did not hush him, simply let him be.

And in the shelter of rain, they lay together until help could arrive.


	3. iii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (nsfw content present at the beginning, please proceed at your own discretion)

Jack stuffs his fist into his mouth.

It does little to stop the whine that escapes. Not that anyone would hear him should they happen to pass by. The creek of the bed was loud enough to cover most sounds, as was the wet slap of skin on skin.

Gabriel, for his part, wore a look of utter concentration, muscles flexing with each thrust of his hips against Jack’s reddened ass.

They shouldn’t be doing this, not with Jack’s arm in a thick cast and the doctor’s office just around the corner. But Jack was hard pressed to stop Gabriel when the pleasure coiled hot and dangerous at the base of his gut.

Each thrust went deeper, sent him higher, Jack couldn’t begin to tell where he ended and Gabe began and he didn’t want to. He’s coated in sweat, keening from the warring numbness of painkillers, soreness of legs hooked over an arm and shoulder and body folded nearly in half – and the pleasure, burning burning _burning_.

“ _Gabe please, please, please—_ ”

His voice chokes on the kiss, swallowed by forceful lips and nipping teeth. Dark hands skate down his sides, thumbs tracing rushed and tender along old scars and muscle lines. Jack grapples for a hold on those beautiful arms, hooks his blunt nails into them but it’s not enough, he’s slipping—

“Jack, sunshine, baby.” The words chant into his ear. A beating mantra to rival the rhythm of their love making. They’re accompanied by pain, raw and real and Jack cries out as teeth circle his ear lobe and bite down.

It’s enough. Enough to get him to hold on – just as Gabe’s free hand slips between their body and under the ugly green scrubs Jack had hiked up to his pecs. Gabriel pulls him off fast and dirty, hand slick and merciless, twisting right at the tip and down again. Jack cries out, fist forgotten, dick jerking in Gabe’s hold as he cums.

His vision goes white, ears ringing and legs kicking with the force of it all.

Hot. Then cold. Colder. And warm again, as Gabriel drops his legs back onto the mattress with a thump, pulling out and standing over him—

“ _Gabe?_ ”

—and leaning back in. Replacing his dick with his sinful tongue, cleaning Jack out until he was cumming again, writhing on the bed with sheets tangled around the cast of his arm and over the red and purple speckled canvas of his chest.

Only when Gabriel was satisfied that Jack was finally boneless and speechless did he help the blond to clean up, pull down his scrubs and rearrange the sheets. He does so with soft, barely there touches, as if Jack were fragile glass. He smooths the creases on the sheets, brushes his thumb along a flushed cheek, and presses a kiss to his sweat-soaked forehead – lips lingering on the skin and reluctant to part. It’s only when Gabriel turns to leave – that worry still on his brows – that Jack recalls himself enough to grasp Gabe’s wrist and never let go.

He has no words, not with his throat raw from screaming and the exhaustion of everything. Gabe caves slowly, he turns hesitant and unsure, back to Jack and crawls under the sheets. Jack’s injured arm is cradled between their bodies, Gabe’s fingers stroking softly down the line of the cast.

In the silence of the setting sun, they look into each other’s eyes and trace each other’s features until the light fades. Then Jack slides closer, presses himself – injured arm and all – into Gabe’s chest and tucks his head under the other man’s chin.

Gabriel’s arms come around to hold him and bring him close.

“I hate you,” he whispers.

“Love you,” Jack says in return.

Gabe can’t help the laugh that escapes. “I love you too, Jack.”

He traces imaginary shapes into Jack’s pale back.

“I’m so glad the UN are making you Strike-Commander.” Gabe admits.

“I don’t.” Jack snorts.

Of course he doesn’t. Because it means he won’t get to be out in the field with Gabriel. It means he won’t get to do all those crazy things he does that include running into the line of fire and taking shots for Gabriel – and nearly losing his life.

“Come on Jack. Think of the hot food, warm beds…It’s practically everything you’ve ever wanted.” Gabe teases.

Jack mumbles something inaudible against the skin of Gabe’s pec.

“What’s that babe?”

“’said I don’t want it if you’re not there,” Jack repeats.

It’s not much louder than before but at least Gabe can hear him. He sighs and presses a kiss to Jack’s blond head, still as gold as the day they met and as soft as a cat’s back.

“What am I going to do with you?” Gabe asked.

Jack shifts against him to look up, his two blue eyes were glowing in the din, lips rounded in a trembling pout. If Jack wasn’t a hardened war soldier that Gabe had seen tear apart a bastion with his bare hands, the puppy dog face probably would’ve worked. Probably.

“No.” Gabe says.

“Please?”

“If you were asking for pancakes, then yes. But no.”

“Pancakes out on the field then – with you.” Jack tries.

“No, no and—” he presses a finger to Jack’s lip as the blond tries to interrupt. “No.”

The dumbass’ brows draw together in a scowl and he sucks Gabriel’s finger into his mouth.

“Licking me up isn’t helping your case any.” Gabe says so with an air of an aggravated parent but a smile grows on his dark features.

For a few moments, Jack tries his best, licking up Gabriel’s digit and sucking it down in a faux imitation of a blow job. His features get more and more ridiculous though, morphing from something sexy to straight up out of an amateur porno. Gabe finally breaks; rolling onto his back and bursts out laughing in the quiet hospital ward.

“Oh my god, no! And what the hell is that face?” Gabe guffaws.

“The best face,” Jack replies. “So…?”

“I said no you little gremlin.”

“Only you would call me a gremlin,” Jack huffs.

“You are one, the team will support me on this.” Gabe hums.

A beat. Gabe looks over to find Jack’s eyes widening, no doubt a ridiculous idea forming behind those cornflower blue irises.

“Ana can—” Jack began.

“Fareeha needs her.” Gabe cut him off.

“Gérard.”

“Declined the position.”

Jack’s eyes narrow. “Sojourn.”

“Would punch a politician before greeting one.”

“Liao?”

“Contracted to working with Torb.”

“Torb.” Now Jack was getting desperate.

“Has a family with fifty kids, Jack. Be nice.”

“Torb has five, don’t be an ass Gabe.” He inhales deeply. “Reinhardt.”

“Hell. No.”

Jack throws his unhindered hand up in defeat.

“Face it Jack, you’re Strike Commander and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Gabe pats his partner on his shoulder.

“You’re already Commander Gabe, why couldn’t you just stick the Strike onto your name and be done with it?”

“Because I’m not a politician or bureaucrat and that’s what the UN want for Strike-Commander,” Gabe explains patiently. “They want someone to ease the transition from war to peace and reform the connections that were broken. And out of everyone on the team, you’re the best suited sweetheart.”

“I’m not a politician or bureaucrat either.”

“But you’re a people person,” Gabe sighs. “I know it’s not ideal, but think of the people we can save, alright?”

That quiets Jack.

“Yeah. Fine. Alright.” Jack huffs.

Gabe counts a whole ten seconds and then Jack is pulling himself unto his uninjured elbow to look at Gabriel.

“But if I’m taking this position, there’s something I want in return.”

Gabriel knew there was a catch, it was too much to ask for Jack to take Strike-Commander quietly. He sighed. “What is it?”

But Jack was already pulling off his dogtags. With difficulty the blond picks apart the clasp and holds one tag between his teeth while he pulls the other off the chain and holds it out to Gabriel.

Gabriel’s eyes widen.

“Marry me?” Jack asks.

“You’re so unromantic!” Gabe snaps.

“Marry me please with a cherry on top?”

“That’s not how you propose—Oh fuck it, yes! Yes, I’m marrying your stupid white ass.”

The tag is exchanged with one of Gabriel’s own, their rough actions creaking the bed in the ward. Once Jack’s tag had joined his on Gabriel’s neck, he could do little but marvel at the little piece of metal. A part of him wonders how such a little flimsy thing could mean so much. The other part reaches across the bed to pull Jack’s laughing face into a teeth-clacking kiss.

“Once we’re settled, I’m buying you a ring and showing you what a _proper_ proposal looks like.” Gabe swore.

“I’m looking forward to it.”


	4. iv

“We know what Commander Reyes did for us in the war, but this behaviour—!”

“Would you have him step back and let these terrorists kill hundreds?” Jack snapped. “Because that’s what will happen.”

“You don’t know that!” Another UN council member spoke up.

“Danger to immediate property, intention of causing harm to _several persons_ , conspiring to conduct terrorist acts—” Jack held up a waft of papers “—verified here, here and here. We have intel, data, witness statements; gained by our own efforts as – and may I remind you, our resources have been sorely lacking due to your withdrawal in past statements.”

“We will discuss resources another time. This still does not excuse what Blackwatch did.” The eldest councilwoman steeped her fingers, face grave. Jack noted the deep-set mouth lines and furrow of her brow. There was still fight left in her eyes.

Good, because Jack came here to fight too.

“Then I suppose the administrative team in charge of these terrorists’ parole also had no excuse,” Jack hummed. His fingers swept back the blue duster – impeccable and glorious as always – to slide into his pockets. He rocked forward and back on the balls of his feet, face tilted in askance.

“I’m sorry, what?” the councilman that spoke this time had greyed hair and a blotchy red face. Too much coffee, most likely. And possibly anger. He looked like the kind of man who liked to dedicate a large block of his day to selfly indulgences and would rather be at one of his ‘appointments’ than here.

“Oh? You didn’t know?” Jack asked, the picture-perfect image of an innocent boy about to ruin their mother’s day. “Terrorist one; Jason Marc – convicted of murder and arson on 6th May 2041. Terrorist two; Hans Dallen – aggravated assault and rape, convicted on 28th October 2038. Terrorist three – Io Nicholas, convicted of assisting and planning in terrorist acts back in 2041, the plan was disassembled by local authorities but she was released from prison – with her new friends, I might add – just six months back by prison guard Kim Remus.”

“Your. Point.” The councilman looked as if he were about to blow. Not close enough though, Jack would like to see steam whistling from his ears.

“Prison guard Kim Remus is a drug addict.” Jack added a tablet to the pile of documents on his evidence desk. “CCTV footage and three interns verified his presence at the establishment the ‘Blow Hard’ in the red-light district. Local authorities have an ongoing investigation within the area, they affirmed that there is a drug cartel there that they have been trying to disassemble.”

“And…?” the councilwoman raised a brow. Her lips were pursed, hands trembling slightly – a sight only visible to Jack’s enhanced eyes. Guess he was about to give her a panic attack.

He should probably tone it down. Maybe.

“On the day before our fellow terrorists were to be released, our witnesses spotted their superior stashing a large quantity of drugs within his designated locker at the prison.” Jack continued. “Where did he get all the money to do so? A little digging revealed that he had received a large sum of money from an unknown company. A little more digging revealed the company to be an overseas one. And after a little _more_ digging—”

“The company doesn’t exist. It was a cover.” A younger councilwoman spoke. Her eyes were round, hands tight in front of her on the desk. Must be new.

Oops. Jack must be a bad first day for her. Whatever.

“Precisely. We have reason to believe that Prison guard Kim Remus received money from the terrorist group and released the terrorists per an unknown arrangement. This terrorist group then convened and plotted their heinous acts – acts that Commander Reyes had to take drastic measures to counter due to time constraints and limited preparation, as was his duty and the duty given to him. Were it not for his brave efforts and the efforts of his men, the downtown – and numerous lives – would be in shambles right now.”

For a moment all were silent, digesting his words.

The elder councilwoman sighed.

“I still want Commander Reyes—” the blotchy councilman began.

“Request denied,” Jack intercepted. “Per Overwatch’s soldier and employee protection regulation, members of our staff need to be debriefed, quarantined for 48hours, and given the OK by two verified medical professionals before they are allowed to leave the barracks after a mission.”

The councilman was _steaming_ now.

Jack smiled to himself.

“If you had reviewed the documents I emailed before the convening of this meeting, you would’ve known that Commander Reyes would not have been allowed to join us at the time you designated.” He laced his hands behind his back. “It sounds like you were trying to go behind his back, organising a trial like this knowing he couldn’t be present—”

“Alright, enough.” The eldest councilwoman sighed. She reached onto her table and straightened her papers, tapping them twice against the polished wood. “Authorities will investigate this guard Kim Remus and the backgrounds of these terrorists. He will be arrested on the grounds of negligence; another trial will be held to verify his use of drugs and determine if he meant to conspire with terrorists. Commander Morrison, I trust your people will be willing to work with the authorities?”

“Of course, ma’am.” Jack replied smoothly.

“Good. Commander Reyes is excused and this meeting is adjourned.”

The blotchy councilman’s mouth dropped open, hands fluttering in the air as he gestured between Jack and his already-leaving colleague. The young councilwoman looked like she had just witnessed a murder and needed to be excused.

Jack nodded to her once, a bright friendly smile on his face, and tipped an imaginary hat to her furious colleague.

He left the attendance hall to the music of the councilman’s enraged screaming.

“Haha! We’ll make a lawyer out of you yet!” Agnes laughed. The eldest of Torbjörn’s daughters clapped her hands in glee. She had just finished watching the live footage of Gabriel’s ‘trial’ and was on vidcall to her favourite uncle Jack.

“One day Agnes,” Jack returned the smile. “Thanks for all those lecture notes. Without your help, I wouldn’t have known how to handle that meeting – I owe you big time.”

“Hey, no problem! Anything to help my favourite uncles. You know, I still can’t believe my lecture notes helped you close a case with the UN.” She hummed.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it closed,” Jack replied. “They’ll probably find some other thing to complain about and get us all back together for another debate.”

“Then I guess I better send you more notes! Would you like the rest on criminal law first? Or Terrorism-legislation?”

After swapping a few more pleasantries with Agnes, Jack turns off the call and slumped back in his chair. His dark office greets him around the glowing rectangle of his screen. On his desk, the coffee had long grown cold, a half-eaten energy bar – left to go stale out in the open – sat beside it on a gritty porcelain plate. Reaching over, Jack took a bite of the bar, and winced.

He spat out the remains into the nearby bin and tossed the rest in with it.

He thinks about going downstairs to grab a bite to eat at the canteen, but…no.

There was too much work to do.

In a drawer under his desk, he had stored a packet of baby wipes. Retrieving them now, Jack swipes the wet tissues briefly around his eyes and over his face, wiping away the remnants of the concealer he had worn for the day.

Gone was the flawless, infallible, heroic figure of the papers. Dark rings, lay revealed, framing his blue eyes and burning with the lack of rest. Wrinkles became more obvious, deep crevasses that cut across his temples and down along his cheeks.

Jack sighed but took up his pen. He still had reports to file, missions to accept or deny. There were candidates to vet and funding to distribute. Sometimes he wished he was still back out on the field, a gun in hand, Gabe at his side.

Everything was so much simpler then.

He got to work.

“And you call yourself an agent of Blackwatch? I said quiet!”

“Sorry jefe.”

The hushed sounds of an argument were what woke Jack. Groaning, he sat up, only to find his neck locked in place from cramps and the awkward position. With a vicious turn of his head, Jack set the annoying crick in his neck.

_Crack!_

“Oh my lord, what the hell!”

Rough hands immediately came to frame Jack’s head. The blond would have swiped them away but the knowledge of _who_ held him kept him in check.

“Jack?” Gabriel asked. “Jack can you hear me? Are you alright?”

“m’fine,” Jack groaned. “Just a stiff neck.”

Crap, how long had he been out? The clock on his desk showed the time as a little past three in the morning. The last thing he remembered was signing off on several mission reports, the last of which was still on his desk, a half-signed signature with its tail tapering off the page. Damn, he would have to replace that.

“What are you doing in my office? No, nevermind. I don’t want to know.” Jack said. “Just do whatever you need to do and go.”

Because by now he was so used to Blackwatch’s – his _fiancé_ ’ _s_ – coming and goings and the barrage of ‘classified’ that Jack had long since stopped questioning their actions. All he did now was cover their tracks and made sure Gabriel stayed out of the limelight. He didn’t expect this – them – to last.

He didn’t expect to settle.

That was a faraway dream that had long since flown out the window.

“Is that what you want us to do?” Gabriel asked, hands still firm around Jack’s head. There was something in his dark brown eyes. Hurt, maybe? “Go?”

No. But who cared what Jack wanted anymore.

Gabriel didn’t wait for an answer, he nodded to his companion. In the poor light, it took Jack a few tries to make out the silhouette of Jesse McCree, Gabriel’s protégé. With his hat firmly on his head and a black serape wrapped around his shoulders, he looked out of place in Jack’s office.

The younger man stepped forward, in between his hands was a three-tiered metal lunchbox which he silently set on the Strike-Commander’s desk. Jack could only gape at the item while his stomach – the traitorous bastard – growled at the sight and the smell seeping between the nooks. Red immediately flushed his cheeks, his hands flying to his face only to be stopped by Gabriel.

The other man had the gall to laugh. And, it had been so long. The sound – Gabriel’s laughter – was music to Jack’s ears, conjuring the memories of happier times away from the shackles of his work. He closed his eyes.

“We uh…wanted to give you a gift,” McCree’s honeyed drawl drew him back, an anchor and the reality of this place. “As thanks. Y’know – for what you did for us in the trial.”

“It’s nothing.” Jack replied immediately.

Suddenly everything was too close, too tight. There’re too many people in his office; Jack needs to work, he needs to be alone, but he doesn’t want to though. He wants to throw off the armour he’s had on since probably the day before yesterday, he wants a shower, his bed, he wants Gab—

He won’t allow himself to think like that. There were people depending on him.

“Thank you, for this.” Jack said. “I’ll just—”

“Oh no you aren’t,” Gabriel cut in. “After you eat, you’re going back to the dorms with me.” A kiss was pressed firmly to his forehead. “You’re going to go take a nice warm bath and go to bed.”

“But—”

“No buts, Jackie.” Gabriel nodded to McCree.

The gunslinger tipped his hat. “Thanks again, Strike Commander. Good to know you have our backs.” With that, the younger man left the office, closing the door gently behind him.

The door had barely clicked shut when Gabriel presented Jack with the first tier of the lunch box, a food item speared on the tip of a plastic fork. The blond narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what he was looking at in the darkness of his office before giving up and letting Gabriel deposit the food into his mouth.

The taste of sweetened egg reached his senses, fluffy and fragrant on his tongue. Jack hummed his appreciation.

“Thought you might like it,” Gabriel chuckled. “I asked Genji to make it.”

“I didn’t know he could cook.”

Gabriel shrugged. “Boy’s got talent. Had no discipline before, though.”

“Did he make the whole box?” Jack asked, surprise in his voice.

“Nah, some of it was McCree. The rest was me.” It was hard to see in the dark office but Jack swore Gabriel’s eyes softened. “Wanted to show our appreciation.”

“Gabriel, you didn’t have to—”

A lump of egg omelette was smushed into Jack’s mouth, effectively shutting him up.

“I watched the trial Jack,” Gabriel said. “Fuck man, you weren’t trained as a lawyer and here you are, trying to be the best one on live TV. I heard from Ana and Torb too, you’ve been working yourself to the bone to get Blackwatch out of hot water. This was the _least_ we could do.”

And judging from his tone, there was nothing Jack could do or say about it. Obediently, he opened his mouth for the next item; crispy chicken with a sweet Japanese sauce. Slowly, savouring each bite, Jack worked through the three tiers of his lunchbox – Gabriel feeding him all the while. The eggs and chicken from Genji were accompanied by cherry tomatoes and a refreshing salad, so clean and crisp from the usual junk Jack had been binging to keep going. The second tier was filled with McCree’s contribution, tender pork loins over rice that melted in the mouth. Jack suspected the gunslinger had toned down the array of spices and silently thanked him for it. He was not in the best state right now, and the simpler the food, the more comforting.

Finally, he arrived on the last tier. Within the box, sat two churros and a cup of chocolate sauce. Jack couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on his pale features.

“Thought you didn’t have time to cook,” he said.

Gabriel shrugged. “For you, I’ll make time.”

A chocolate tipped churro was placed against Jack’s lips. Slowly, he let Gabriel push the treat into his mouth. The scratchy feel of crystal sugar against his tongue and the soft dough was pure bliss, the nirvana after weeks of the canteen’s hard fondant cakes. So busy savouring the churro, Jack didn’t even realise that he had finished his treat when soft lips sealed over his own, a questing tongue seeking passage and chasing after leftover sugar.

The kiss was soft, tender after so many weeks apart.

Gabriel’s arms came to encircle him, pulling Jack from his chair and against a hard chest. Jack’s own arms came around Gabe’s neck, holding him close – until not an inch of space remained between their bodies.

“I missed this,” Jack confessed.

“So do I.”

For a moment, Jack hesitated. “Do you think we’ll get to do this again soon?”

Gabriel broke away from the kiss, instead nestling his head into Jack’s shoulder. “I don’t know.”

Again with the unknowns. The things that Gabe couldn’t – wouldn’t – tell him. The secrets. Jack should’ve known better than to ask. His arms grew limp around Gabriel’s shoulders, but when he tried to pull away, the other man held firm.

“Jack.” There was so much to say in the look Gabriel gave him. But all that escaped was his name.

“Yeah. One day.” Jack replied. He got the memo; there was still too much to be done. Too many threats to cull, too many people that need saving. One day they would settle down, get a home, have the life away from war they always wanted. But not today, or tomorrow, or in the next few months.

Gabriel nodded, and Jack let him lift him from his chair and carry him out of his office in a bridal carry.

They’ll head back to their shared room in the dorms, share a shower and crawl under the sheets together. They’ll trade soft, barely-there kisses in the dark until they drift off to sleep.

And when the next morning comes, Jack will turn away from the empty other-side of the bed and brace himself for another day of haggling with politicians.

The remaining churro in the lunchbox will go in the trash.


	5. v

“Please, Jack. Come with me.”

Those were the words he always wanted to hear. But not like this – never like this. Overwatch was falling apart around them, their family and friends either relocated by the UN despite Jack’s best efforts or killed in battle by an enemy they barely knew.

Support was deserting them left and right and the government was breathing down their necks. Jack was holding on by a slim thread, a thread that could slip any moment and put him on the chopping block.

And then there was Gabriel.

First Moira, then Venice. Now this.

“Gabe…I don’t—”

“There’s nothing _here_ for us.” Gabriel interrupted. He was a force of nature, a whirlwind pacing the length of Jack’s small office with the contained might of a tiger. “The UN won’t do anything. They’ll sit and play with their thumbs until they find _one_ good morsel and dive on it like dogs.” He stopped, turning to face Jack who was leaning against the desk. “You know they’re looking for an excuse. An excuse to…” He gestured to the silvering blond.

They both knew what that meant.

Jack had heard the rumours. When he thought about chopping block before, he meant it quite literally. Something about harbouring criminals and abuse of power (when Jack had only ever wanted to redeem and save), about protecting the right thing the wrong way (as if taking a knife to a gun fight with terrorists ever worked), about the deaths, and the dying (if he couldn’t save people he wasn’t doing his job, but if he did save them, he did it wrong).

“Jack, come with me.”

But could Jack ever condone this? Working _with_ terrorists to sabotage them from within? He couldn’t lie, what Gabe was offering was tempting, the chance to tear down the group – Talon – for all they’ve done against Overwatch. The very _idea_ of avenging Ana.

“I…can’t.”

He almost takes back the words when he sees Gabe’s face fall. If words could break a heart, then he had just done so, shattered his heart across the cold unfeeling void that was his office.

"Gabe—” he tried.

"Don't." He was walking away, a hand held up between them like a barrier.

How many times had Jack let Gabriel walk away? How many times had they simply looked at one another, and turned their backs? When had it become natural, to refuse the man that was his everything? No more, he decides. It felt like standing on a precipice before a jump, knowing that beyond there would be no turning back.

Jack reached out and interlaced their hands.

"Gabe, listen to me!" He pulled the other man until they were face to face, even though Gabe refused to meet his eyes. "What you want, what you're asking for…" Jack swallowed. "What you want is an undercover agent, someone who has a knack for subterfuge, for undercover...but I'm not that guy.

"You told me once, that I was a people person. I'd walk into that Talon base and I'd punch the first asshole I saw – you know that." A chuckle escaped Gabe disguised as a cough, Jack couldn't help the smile that spread across his own face and yet. Why did his eyes feel wet? "Don't get me wrong Gabe. I _want_ to be there with you, like I've always been. Watching your back—”

"And jumping into the first paper bullet aimed at me." Gabriel mused. He caved, sinking into Jack's embrace. They stood there, holding each other. The blond could see the very thoughts churning behind dark brown eyes, the many outcomes turned and spun until they reached past even what Jack could predict.

"Maybe it _is_ better you stay on the outside." Gabe finally said. "Heaven knows I need someone I can depend on if it all goes to hell."

"Not because you don't want me jumping into said paper bullet?" Jack asked, a grin stretched from ear to ear.

Gabe pulled his cheek, ruining the image of the mischievous boy and kissed Jack deeply. How could he have thought of walking away from this man, his fiancé.

"I never got to fulfil my promise," Gabe whispered, fingers slipping under Jack's armour to find the dogtags always around his neck. In his palm, the flimsy metal shone back at him, his name and Jack's side by side, as it has always been.

"Once we settle." Jack said.

"You'd think I'd at least have a two-storey house with a white picket fence by now." Gabe chuckled.

"I don't need a house to feel at home," Jack replied. He pulled Gabe firmly to his chest, head nestled into Gabe's neck. Gabriel could feel him swallow and was that – wetness against his skin? "We have a lot of planning to do before you leave."

Gabe twisted his hands in Jack's blue duster. He remembered the first day Jack put it on, he was there to help smooth the creases across broad shoulders. There to help tease at the tails and check his reflection against glowing medals – an act that had Jack laughing and pushing his face away from his chest.

Now it was as haggard as its owner; faded blue, hanging limp on shoulders never meant to carry so much.

"I promise I'll come back to you." Gabe said.

"You better."

Together, they reached for the door of Jack's office.

But paused when the door did not open.

"Jack?" Gabe asked.

"It's not supposed to do that." Jack parted from Gabe to test the door with both hands. It did not budge. Turning to the console beside the door, he placed his palm over the scanner.

A red triangle burst from its digital depths, a large exclamation point flashing accompanied by the high whine of an alarm.

"Jack get back from the door!"

Gabe pulled him back just in time as the first tremor hit, tossing them up like toys on a carpet. A large groan accompanied the ceaseless shaking, sending both men to the floor. More tremors followed, each echoing and closer than the last. Around them, the light took on a fiery hue, the first thick scent of smoke permeating the space.

Miraculously, Jack's office was holding against the assault, minus a sparking light bulb and dust from the ceiling.

"Athena report!" Jack snarled. Silence greeted him. "Athena!"

"She's been locked out!" Gabriel yelled over the sounds. Somewhere he could feel the low muffled thoom of more explosives and the replying call of falling metal and stone. "We have to get out!"

Scrambling to their feet, they lunged at the door together. Even under their combined might, the door did not creak.

"Fuck what did they make the door out of?" Gabe snapped. He punched it again, only to recall in pain, a bruise immediately apparent.

They weren't getting out that way.

Jack turned to the rest of his office. There were the picture frames on his desk, papers fluttering from their places in drawers and shelves. Against his chair, a holster with a hand gun fluttered with the tremors, useless – Jack knew. The glass of his windows and the door were bullet proof and the wall…

The wall.

“We’re trapped in here!” Gabe was snarling.

Jack placed both hands against his wall. On the other side was Ana’s empty office, left unlocked and open ever since her death. He looked back at Gabriel, pacing again along his office, looking for a way out. The door was sealed, airtight, but if Jack could make a crack in the wall…

He stepped back and stripped off his gloves.

The first punch against the wall shook his bones in protest, pain lancing up his arm and through his body.

“Jack what the fuck!?”

Rough hands grabbed him, trying to pull him back.

Jack shrugged them off and punched the wall again. He punched until his right hand was coated in blood, the skin torn and the bone broken, and then he switched hands. Gabe was yelling at him, desperate fingers scrabbling at Jack’s coat for him to stop, even as the office was shaking itself to bits around them. Jack didn’t stop, he couldn’t.

Each punch he threw, the more he grew numb. As his knuckles shattered and fingers crushed, each punch clashed heavy and forceful against the dry wall, putting a scratch in the paint, then a dent, a crack.

A hole.

Jack’s hand pierced the wall, his arm falling through the other side into Ana’s empty office. He’d done it; made a hole the size of his fist. Slowly, trembling he withdrew his bloodied arm. He couldn’t feel anything in them anymore, but it was worth it.

“Jack, what the hell…” Gabriel’s voice was a soft thing, so frightened and small as he cradled both of Jack’s broken limbs. “Why – Why did you do this?”

“Got you a way out,” Jack panted. With the path open, smoke was streaming into the small office. “I know you can do that wraithing trick. So…”

Gabriel’s eyes widened.

He turned to the hole the size of his fist, bordered with the blood of Jack’s hands. Hands that were no more than a bloody mass. His fiancé, unable to even hold him now.

“I can’t leave.” Gabe whispered.

Jack pressed his forehead to Gabriel’s, blue eyes twinkling. “Yes, you can.” He took a deep breath. “You have to.”

“Not without you.”

“I can’t go to smoke like you Gabe,” Jack pointed out. “Go.”

“No no no no no—”

“Gabe.”

“Fuck! You can’t make me go Jack!” Gabriel snapped. He pulled Jack to his chest, so tight, as if he could meld them together through the embrace alone. “I’m not leaving you!”

“You have to.” Was that wetness against Gabriel’s skin? The slide of drops down Jack’s cheeks and along Gabe’s neck. He could feel it, could feel his tears, the shaking of his body. Jack’s broken fingers, trying to dig into the sleeves of his hoodie. “Think of the people.”

“Fuck the people,” Gabe snarled. He’s dedicated his whole life to them, fought for them, bled for them. But he _refused_ to leave the one thing that mattered the most. He couldn’t.

There would be nothing left if he lost Jack.

With difficulty, Jack moved them apart enough to look into Gabriel’s eyes. The dark rings were sharp around those blue corn flower orbs, his hair – once a sunshine blond – was a silvery white around his wrinkled features. When had he gotten so old? Where had all their time gone?

“I was supposed to take you to dinner,” Gabriel whispered. “Candlelight, steak…even a dance under the moonlight on a roof overlooking the sea.”

Jack laughed. The tears slipped faster down his face.

“I would propose on the beach, with the water around our feet. Get down on one knee and make a speech.” Gabriel continued. Their noses were pressed together, each breath shared as if it would be their last. “I’d tell you…how much I loved you, and how I would want to grow old with you…”

“And I would say ‘yes’ before you were even finished.” Jack smiled.

Gabriel pressed a kiss to soft pale lips. Tender as a new flower, and deep as the sea.

“ _Go_ ,” Jack said.

“Wait for me,” Gabriel replied. “Just a while more.”

And then he was gone, streaming through the gap, the last of his smoke a wisp between Jack’s bloody fingers. Until there was nothing left.

“I’ll always wait for you,” Jack cradled his broken hands to his heart. “I love you.”

The office crashed down around him.


	6. vi

If anyone had asked Jack before, what animal he likened himself to, he would’ve said a cat. He’s lost count the amount of close calls he’s had, the bullets that always hit close to home, the nights where he’d had to spend with an open wound, blood dribbling down in rivulets.

If he were a cat, he’d have lost most of his nine lives by now.

His breath left him in a gasp.

The hand around his neck was too large to be anything but mechanic. It glistened with gold, knuckles adorned with sharpened talons and buzzed with an unwavering heartbeat. The gauntlet, was a magnificent weapon, as dangerous as it was beautiful, it lifted Jack until he was off the ground and eye-to-eye with its equally unwavering owner.

Doomfist inspected Jack with the gaze of a man inspecting a gnat.

“Is that all?” he asked.

“Fuck. You.” Jack hissed. As quick as he could, he lifted his rifle in his right hand. His enhancements creaked protests, nerve wires fried to hell and back from the pummelling before.

Doomfist caught the muzzle with his free hand, an amused grin on his face. He didn’t even flinch as Jack pulled the trigger, plugging a pulse munition deep into his mechanised palm.

“I do love an insect who can fight.” Doomfist commented. With a jerk, he tore the rifle from Jack’s trembling hand and cast it aside.

Unarmed, helpless, Jack could only give a token struggle as the gauntlet began to tighten. His breath fled his lungs, throat dry and scorching. Darkness crept in, and for once in his life Jack felt the tell-tale signs of fear, raw and unbridled – cold and bottomless.

“And so, the great soldier falls—"

A shot rang out, cutting Doomfist’s last words away. The gauntlet was wrenched from Jack’s neck, dropping him to the ground. Breath returned to the weary soldier in great gulps, burning away the darkness with such efficiency that Jack was stunned in its wake.

“Get him out of here!” A familiar voice snarled.

Jack would recognise that voice anywhere.

“Gabe?” he gasped. His sight was only just returning, but he was still disoriented, still too weak to do anything but crawl. “Gabe? Where—”

Slim hands grabbed his arm, Jack crying out in pain as they lifted him over slender shoulders and cool skin.

“Gabe,” he said again.

“He’s busy!” a woman snapped, right by his ear. She must be the one carrying him. Her words were tinged with an accent that in Jack’s state, he couldn’t quite pin. He only knew that she was moving him away from the fight when the sounds of gunfire began to dim.

“No – no don’t leave Gabe alone, he’ll die.” Jack panted.

“ _Oh la vache!_ If we don’t move you, _you’ll_ die!”

French? Jack thought. He didn’t have time to ponder, his feet were kicked out from under him by steel tipped heels, dropping all his weight onto the woman’s shoulders.

“Hang on.” Widowmaker grunted.

Jack felt the jerk as the sniper fired off her grapple, and then they were rising – the soldier barely hanging on by the arm around his waist and his own over the Widow’s shoulder. Together they rose until they had reached their chosen perch.

And then without fanfare, Jack was thrust hard against a pole and wrapped in the metal twine of Widowmaker’s grapple rope. Jack could only stare stupidly at the blue-tinged woman wiping off her hands and checking her rifle.

“Did you just…tie me up?” Jack couldn’t keep the scandalised tone out of his voice. He shuffled, trying to loosen the rope but the cable only bit deeper, holding him fast with his arms locked tight against his sides.

“I was tasked by _monsieur_ Reyes to get you out of trouble,” Widowmaker explained. “He told me about your…” she waved her hand in the air in true royal fashion. “ _protective_ habits.”

“They’re not habits – now let me go!” Jack snarled.

In reply, the sniper pressed her venom mine, armed and ready right onto Jack’s chest.

“I suggest you sit still unless you want a face full of gas,” she hummed. “ _Au revoir!_ ”

“No – no wait come back here – Widow!” Jack yelled.

But she was gone, stepped off the roof of the building she had deposited Jack on, the sharp pops of a sniper rifle following her down. The soldier cursed vehemently, trying in vain to get loose of the ropes binding him tight.

But paused when the mine on his chest clicked.

Jack went deathly still, waiting to see if the damn thing would blow. It didn’t, but that didn’t calm Jack down any. He could still hear the sounds of the battlefield, somewhere down there was Gabriel, fighting against Doomfist.

The worry grew quick and potent, rooting itself deep within Jack like a weed he could not reach.

Gabriel, the Reaper, dived aside as the block of concrete came sailing past. It crashed behind him with an ear-splitting boom and a rain of dust. It would gather on his coat and leave the black a little dirtier but he had other things to worry about right now.

Doomfist was advancing, slow and steady as he always did with that look of assessment set deep into his features. Gabriel had no doubt the master of Talon would’ve already figured out the wraith’s every move and stratagem. He had to think of something else and fast or this battle was lost.

And he refused to see this battle lost.

Gabriel feinted right. Immediately Doomfist was on him, the gauntlet swinging inches from the Reaper’s mask. He was trying to force Gabriel to wraith, to flee in smoke so that he could pursue him. As powerful as Gabe’s new powers made him though, he would be most vulnerable when he coalesced – and he knew Doomfist was banking on that.

But Gabriel did not get to where he was through his powers alone. He fought back, deflecting each swing of Doomfist’s punch with a well-aimed shotgun blast, catching each blow, pushing the other back.

He could do this. He could win if he just landed one perfect shot.

Too late did he realise that his thoughts had been the vital slip Doomfist needed. The Talon master’s foot struck out, kicking Gabriel’s feet from under him. A fist followed, deadly and intent on crushing his skull.

Gabe went to smoke.

 _Shit_. He had been trying to avoid just this predicament. Doomfist may not be able to strike him right now but he was chasing him, following the smoke’s every move and twitch for the first signs of reformation. Gabriel was cornered.

 _Fuck_.

And he wanted to see Jack one last time too.

Sniper shots filled the air, the first breaking Doomfist’s shields as surely as if they had never been. The Talon leader immediately fled, gauntlet held up as a shield between himself and the Widowmaker perched on a faraway stone.

Gabriel reformed in safety, covered by the unrelenting eye of the spider.

“Jack—” he gasped the moment he could speak.

“Safe!” Widowmaker spat. “So you can stop being a hopeless romantic and focus on the fight!”

Jack was…Jack was _safe_.

_Jack, hanging limp in Doomfist’s chokehold. He was bleeding from a head and gut wound, gasping as the golden gauntlet closed around his neck, blue eyes wide to the sky._

Thank goodness.

_Gabe had been worried he wouldn’t make it in time. Wouldn’t be able to see that sunshine smile and hold Jack’s hand again._

He didn’t want to think about finishing this fight without Jack. They were so close. So close to ending it all. He had so many things to do after, so many promises he needed to make good on.

_Widowmaker pulling Jack away, the idiot still calling out for Gabriel. It took everything not to go to him then, he knew Jack couldn’t see well without his visor, how his stubborn tendencies would make the soldier seek out and protect Gabriel even if he couldn’t stand for shit._

No, stop. He needed to focus right now. Doomfist was regaining his bearings, trying to figure out a plan to take out the traitors Reaper and Widowmaker both. Gabriel wouldn’t give him that chance.

Every drop of blood shed, every sleepless night for Jack and himself, all the stress, the worry, the _pain_. It ends now.

He charged Doomfist with a cry fit to rival a dragon.

Jack didn’t know how much time had passed, only that he knew the sound of gunfire had stopped a while ago. Trepidation coiled uncomfortably in his gut, shifting with the restlessness of a grumpy snake. He had tried everything, but every minute shift to get out of his bonds had caused the venom mine to click against his chest.

He nipped at his bottom lip, trying to find another way out. The suspense was killing him, he had to know if Gabe…

If he…

“You look like you could use some help, darlin’.” A rough voice drawled.

Jack’s head jerked up. Gabe was leaning heavily against the door of the roof access, a clawed hand holding firm against the frame to support him. The mask of the Reaper was nowhere in sight, revealing soft features and brown eyes surrounded by crusted blood.

“Gabe!” Jack yelped. He had to resist with every ounce of his being not to leap at the wraith – or _fall_ at the wraith. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? Is everything okay?”

“Woah woah woah, slow down sunshine.” Gabriel stepped forward, only then did Jack notice the smoke thick around the wraith’s feet and the way he limped. “One question at a time.”

“You _are_ hurt!” Jack accused. Curse these bonds! If he could just get loose—

“Ah-ah.” Gabriel tutted, a clawed finger teased gently at Jack’s chin, drawing the soldier closer – but not enough. “You know, I kind of like what Amé’s done.”

“Gabe, get me out of these ropes _right now_ or so help me I will—”

A kiss was pressed onto Jack’s lips, muffling the words in his throat as Gabe attempted to swallow his tongue and more, teeth nipping harsh and deep until Jack was sure his mouth was red and puffy.

He didn’t know when his eyes had slipped closed, only that his senses were filled with nothing but Gabe. The petrichor, blood and sweat smell of him, his beard against Jack’s cheek, his voice, close enough to send vibrations through their touching skin every time he groaned.

“Gabe, please—”

“Breathe, _mi sol_.”

“Please please please please—”

And how does Gabriel say no to that? He held Jack firm with one hand, the other slipping between the soldier’s clothes and the spider-like mine sat squarely on his chest. With a flick of a finger and the teasing of his palm, the trap was disarmed and cast aside. The ropes were next, loosened inch by painful inch until Jack was squirming from the touch.

“We should do this more often,” Gabriel commented.

“Get the rest of these ropes off and then we’ll talk,” Jack hissed.

The last of the rope still remained, with one pull Gabriel could undo it all. But he held the tail between his fingers, clawed tips tracing along the metal twine as a cat does yarn.

“Gabe…” Jack growled a warning tone in his voice.

“m’thinking.” Gabe hummed. He swayed on his feet, a plume of smoke swirling around his body.”

“ _Gabe!_ ” Jack jerked against his bonds, trying to reach for him – only to have Gabriel collapse against his chest. “No no no, Gabe _please_ – get a grip!”

“Calm down Jack,” Gabe murmured. “I’m just…tired. Gimme a sec.”

“If you die on me now, I’m going to bring you back and then kill you again.” Jack swore.

Gabe’s only response was a chuckle. He nestled against the soldier, head against his neck. He wasn’t lying when he said he was tired; the fight with Doomfist had taken a lot out of him and it would take time and rest for his body to rejuvenate to what it once was. But it was over, at long last.

Amélie had left with the promise of keeping in touch before vanishing into the night, no doubt to wrap up her own business with Talon’s remaining leaders. Gabe didn’t envy her one bit, his quest for revenge was over as far as he was concerned.

He nearly lost everything. But through pain and pure stubbornness, he had gotten in all back – he wasn’t keen on risking any of it again.

“We should get a house,” Gabe hummed.

He could feel Jack nuzzle his head, nose messing the curls he had left to grow out.

“Got a place in mind?” he asked.

“Anywhere, as long as it’s with you.”

“Romantic.” A pause. “You really mean it?”

With effort, Gabe managed to push himself up to look into Jack’s blue eyes. They were a little hazy now – damage leftover from the Zurich explosion – but no less expressive than the first time they met. Uncertainty swirled in their depths, yet the smile on his lips held.

Gabriel could sense the want and the warring soldier’s discipline of not letting oneself hope. How many times had they said they would? How many times had they passed up the opportunity for some other task?

No, there had served their time. Now they can be selfish. Now, they _will_ be selfish.

Gabriel tugged on the rope in his hand, the cords came undone around Jack. He did not let the soldier despair, feeling the other tense up at the simple action of letting him go. Instead Gabriel clasped Jack’s hand in his own, and using the rope, bound them together.

“Anywhere,” Gabe affirmed. “As long as I’m with you.”

For a moment, Jack only stared at their intertwined hands. And then, the first tears slipped from his eyes. Gabriel felt the panic well up swift and suffocating. Did Jack not want this? Had he fucked up – all those unfulfilled promises before, all those laters – and he did not want to put up with Gabe anymore?

“Jack?” Gabe pressed. He feared the silence, the drops falling down the pale face. It threatened to swamp him, all those mistakes he had committed. His hand tightened around Jack’s, his anchor—

Jack crashed into him with the force of a stormy wave, their lips met with teeth knocking against each other and tongues searching with a vigour that left Gabriel breathless. Jack’s free hand was in his coat, pulling them tighter together until no space remained between their bodies.

“Jack?”

“ _Yes_. Together – anywhere, I don’t care –” Jack panted. “Fuck I didn’t think – all those times before, I didn’t dare hope. I _stopped_ myself from hoping.” The laugh that escaped him was like a bark, a sound like the wind unable to force its way out quick enough. It was like being _free_. “Gabe, I spent all that time telling myself not to hope – _I don’t know where to go_. And I don’t care.

“My home has always been with you. And if you’re with me – I’ll be happy.”

Gabriel couldn’t kiss the breath out of Jack’s lungs enough. If he could, he would sink into the other’s bones and never waken. The relief was thick in his blood, high in his head. Thank goodness, thank goodness. He pulled Jack to him, sitting the soldier on his lap so that he could press more kisses over his skin and hold him tight.

Gabriel didn’t even care if tears slipped freely down his cheeks.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“Love you too.” Jack replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pheeew. So that was a journey! I experimented a bit since I've never written some of the other parts and nsfw before. I hope you like it!


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